Seven Days to Halloween
hough it remains dark, I felt long, slim fingers caressing along my body, touching me in places I have never been touched before. My breathing accelerates, biting down on my bottom lip, feeling my cock twitch in appreciation, rising to attention and begging to be touched.
The idea of touching someone has always repulsed me, not wanting to let anyone that close to me. But this person who has been plaguing my dreams, I anticipate going to bed every night to feel exactly this. The nice thing about it is I remember everything that happens, and it feels so real… like it is really happening to me.
“Your cock is soaked, pet,” his deep, husky voice whispers in my ear, sending a tremble through my body as I feel his hand wrap around me, “were you that excited to feel my touch, huh? Daddy’s hand feels good, right?”
Parting my lips to somehow respond to him, no words would dare to come out. No matter how hard I try, it feels like my words were getting stuck in the back of my throat, and it felt like any time I try even harder, it starts to constrict, blocking my airway.
“That’s too bad.” He growls, and I feel his cool hands leave my body, desperately wanting them back on me but there’s nothing I could do there, “only seven more days, pet, until I can have you withering beneath me in pleasure. Fuck, your hole is going to be so tight around my fucking cock, I almost can’t wait…”
I was going to ask him why he didn’t just do it already, wanting to finally see him, but the moment I thought I might be getting somewhere, my eyes fly open, and I’m left laying drenched in the middle of my bed. If it wasn’t already embarrassing enough, my boxers felt sticky and wet, and I could only imagine the mess on the inside.
Groaning, I roll out of bed, careful not to get anything on my bed, I make my way to the conjoined bathroom, desperately needing a shower now. Stripping off my dirty clothing, I attempt to wash off as much as I can before wringing it out and throwing it in the hamper, knowing I am going to do laundry later tonight when I get home from class.
But my mind keeps going back to the dream I had, wondering who it could be in my dreams.
I never used to have vivid dreams until I moved into this apartment with my best friend about six months ago. At first, it started off slow with simple caresses, almost innocent-like, but now, it’s full-blown lust and I have no idea what to make of it.
Do I have a crush on someone and not even realize it?
I don’t think that’s even possible, but it has to be the case.
At only twenty years old, I think that I have lived a somewhat successful life until the day I ‘broke’ my parents’ hearts. For the longest time, I was in denial about who I really am, and what I want to be, and HOW I want to continue to live my life, and the moment I turned eighteen and graduated high school, I came clean to the Christian family that I’ve been with my entire life.
Mom, dad, I’m gay.
It went as you could expect.
They didn’t disown me like I thought they might, but instead just told me that though they love me, they would pray for my soul. Honestly, I just pushed it aside because I am going to do what it takes for me to be happy, and if they can’t accept me, that’s fine. I’m not expecting them to change their whole life for me, but to just love me unconditionally. They told me that they could do that.
I moved in with my best friend to a decent-size apartment that dad pays for, saying it is the least he can do for me until I graduate college. I don’t rely on that, knowing it could change at any given day, so I did take up a part-time job at the bakery downtown to save up money.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off my body, really hating the feeling of wet hair and sticky clothing. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I wonder if there is something wrong with me. At five-ten, I wouldn’t say that I am much of an athlete, but I do like to run at times. I keep my blonde hair at a decent length, hating when it gets in my eyes. My eyes are the color of emeralds; my best quality if you ask me.
If you would ask Justin, he would’ve called me a nerd.
Justin has been my best friend since the sixth grade, and I wouldn’t give him up ever. Even though he is a jock, he doesn’t really act like one. At six-one, he isn’t much taller than me, but he has a lean, muscular body from all the times he works out. It’s at least four times a week for two hours each.
A little ridiculous if you ask me.
His short brown hair is normally a mess on the top of his head, and his blue eyes are the color of the clear-blue sky. I envy him sometimes because he gets all the guys and girls that he wants, but it seems like nobody ever looks my way. I’m almost invisible.
If I were more like Justin, would I meet the person that I dream about?
“Hey, are you up?” I hear Justin call from outside my bedroom door, “we’re running behind.”
Looking at my phone, I realized then that he is right, we were running behind. I quickly get dressed in black jeans, a loose fitted grey t-shirt and a pair of converses. Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder, making sure that I have everything important before I rush out of the bedroom, knowing that Justin would be waiting for me patiently by the front door like he always does.
“We would never be on time if it were up to you.” He teases me as he opens the front door.
Rolling my eyes, I don’t even try to tell him off because unfortunately, I know that he is right. Glancing behind me as he shuts the door, I can’t help but feel like someone is watching me, waiting. A shiver goes down my spine as I try to shake off that feeling knowing that nothing is in there to get me…
I shouldn’t have thought that.
Because he is waiting for me.